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“Who are you?” he asked again, cocking his head toward Pierre.
“My name is Pierre. This is my team. Butch, Tucker, Conn, Winslow, and Fish. We’re U.S. Army Rangers.”
“That makes much more sense than engineers,” he grinned. “Are there more of you?”
“I’m afraid not. We’re all you get,” said Fish.
“Well, that’s better than nothing,” he said with a sad smile. “I can tell you what I know.”
For two hours, they spoke about everything that was happening in Haiti. The politics, the violence, the political violence. All of it. But the missing children were a mystery.
“Many don’t have parents,” said Henri.
“We noticed that last night,” said Pierre. “The children who were crying out for help didn’t cry out for a parent. Most children would cry for their mother or father. These children didn’t.”
“That’s because most don’t have parents. Or if they do, they don’t know who they are. Boys started showing up at the docks in the morning, begging to go out with me every day to fish. A few was fine, but when it started to be twenty or thirty boys, I couldn’t do it any longer. Then I noticed the terrified looks on their faces.”
“What did they say?” asked Pierre.
“Only that they were afraid of being taken. They didn’t know who would take them, only that their friends had been taken and never came home.”
Pierre took out his VG phone and texted AJ, Hiro, and Tanner.
Any communication on a trafficking site dealing with primarily male children from Haiti?
His teammates stared at him but never questioned who he’d texted. They trusted Pierre.
“What is it that you think you can do?” asked Henri.
“We’re not sure,” said Pierre. “We hope to find who is taking the kids and bring them into custody for an international court, if they cooperate. If they don’t, then custody won’t matter.”
“What I know is that many of the children sleep at one of the sanctuary churches. There are three. Sacred Heart, St. Francis of Assisi, and St. Mary’s. The church opens its doors at dusk, closes them at dark, and locks the children inside. At dawn, they’re given a small meal, and the doors are opened once again.”
“Have any of these children disappeared while staying inside the church?” asked Tucker.
“Not that I’m aware of, or anyone else for that matter. The problem is there is no tracking system of who enters the church and who leaves the church.”
“Sounds like that should be our first visit,” said Pierre.
“I would agree but just be aware that the Mother Superior in charge, Sister Josephina, is very protective of the church and the children. I’ve tried many times to get her to allow one of my men or women to stay with the children, and she refuses.”
“Does she have security?” asked Winslow.
“Nothing other than the church itself. It’s odd, but it seems the one thing people respect around here. The church,” frowned Henri.
“If that’s all we have, then we’ll make that work. We’d appreciate if you’d keep us informed of what might be happening here,” said Pierre.
“I am grateful for the help,” said Henri. “I’ve gone to the military, the police, I’ve even written letters to foreign embassies, and it all seems to have fallen on deaf ears.”
“Well, I hear. Loud and clear. I would have been one of those children had it not been for my father, an Army Ranger who was here working another case. He saved me and took me out of here.”
“We should all be as lucky as you,” said Henri with a sad smile. “Here is my phone number. You may call or text at any time.” He slid the paper across the table and paid the waitress for the coffees.
“Are we ready?” asked Butch, standing at the table. Henri turned around.
“One more thing, gentlemen. Do not tell the good sister we’ve spoken. She’s taken a serious dislike to me, and I have no idea why.”
CHAPTER TEN
